


Unexpected News

by firecracker189



Series: Our Little Family [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers as family, Baby Steve, Daddy Bucky, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Team as Family, Uncle Phil, Uncle!Phil, and now sam, best friend ever sam, caregiver sam, caregiver!Sam, daddy!Bucky, he's just the best friend ever seriously i love him so much he's so good to steve, i just wanted caregiver sam and so did you guys so here is awesome sam, i want him in other works now, little Steve, little!steve, nsap, seriously sam is such a trooper, so nat doesn't know yet just phil and bucky, this takes place pre-ache inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-30 21:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13960536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecracker189/pseuds/firecracker189
Summary: Steve's not sleeping well for the few days the team is gone and he's on probation. JARVIS isn't too happy with this pattern, so he calls in Sam to help him out and make sure the Captain gets his rest. (some of you wanted to see cool babysitter Sam, so here you go!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something that I got an idea for after some of you said you wanted Sam in the picture as well and for him to meet the littles. I think he'd fit right in as the bestest babysitter ever/such a trooper so this is what I came up with. Enjoy some embarrassed Steve and Good Friend Sam! Plus a splash of Bucky being an amazing Daddy when he gets home and cuddling the heck out of his boy. This one takes place before The Ache Inside, so nobody knows about Steve's little side except for Bucky and Phil, and now Sam. 
> 
> So, the timeline for the OLF series goes: The Ache Inside, Unexpected News, and then Easing The Ache. Other short one-shots and additions fall after ETA when everyone has already explored their headspaces and such.

Steve wasn’t expecting the knock on the door. He swiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and quickly shoved the wet sheets into the washing machine to deal with later. He was cold and shaking, shirt plastered to his back with cold sweat. His pants clung uncomfortably to him as he shuffled across back towards the bedroom to change clothes. “Just a second!”

His voice cracked when he spoke and he nearly crumpled as an errant thought made its way through his mind. _What if it was a bad guy?_ And Daddy wasn’t even here to keep him safe! Steve stifled a sob as he forced himself to the bathroom and stripped the wet garments off of himself, dumping them in the hamper. His hands shook when he reached for the cabinet beneath the sink. The little part in the back of his head that sounded like a mix of his Daddy and his Uncle Phil was insisting that he put protection on just in case. There were a few Goodnites underneath the sink next to his diapers, but Steve didn’t think he could diaper himself with his nerves the way they were. He shimmied into one of those and threw on a clean pair of Bucky’s sweats over them. Then he trudged to the door and rubbed his arm over his face to clear away any leftover tears.

Steve sucked in a strengthening and calming breath, straightening his shoulders back like a grownup. “Who is it?” he asked, proud of himself for sounding calmer than he felt.

“It’s just me,” the response was muffled, but it relaxed Steve greatly. Just Sam. He opened the door slightly, chain lock still in place as he checked to make sure it was, indeed, only Sam. When the concerned face of his friend met him, he finally slid the lock back and opened the door wider.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, slight quaver in his voice as his brow furrowed.

Sam stepped inside and looked him over with a frown of his own. “JARVIS called me,” he began softly, pushing the door closed when it became clear Steve was too addled to do so. “He said you’ve been having nightmares since Bucky and the others left.” The giant purple bags beneath the supersoldier’s eyes spoke for themselves, and Sam laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I thought some company might help. JARVIS agreed with me.” He indicated the bag slung over his shoulder. “Is there somewhere I can change clothes?”

“Guest room,” Steve murmured, running a hand down his face. “To the right of our room.”

Sam nodded and crossed the room with his duffle, a definite aroma of ammonia hitting his nostrils as he did so. He closed the door behind him and let his bag drop to the floor, immediately moving to undress. It was no secret that sometimes the dreams after combat could be brutal, and he’d had his fair share of night terrors after arriving back stateside that had caused him to ruin a few pairs of sheets. He didn’t begrudge the guy for it. Hell, if anyone on earth deserved to be cut some slack because they’d pissed the bed due to PTSD and trauma, it was Captain America. Rather, _Steve Rogers._ Captain America was some propaganda piece set up by the WPCC, and elevated to almost god-status for his heroism. _Steve Rogers_ was a tortured soul, a _human man_ that needed treatment and a good couple weeks at the seaside with his partner. He was a friend and a loyal one, and he didn’t deserve any of the bullshit SHIELD had put him through.

The thought made Sam grit his teeth as he folded his clothes and put them back into his bag. Those bastards _still_ didn’t see him as more than a machine. For Pete’s sake, they’d just dumped him in some cabin somewhere and tried to let him detox from waking up in the future! When Sam had read the file JARVIS had provided for him, after Steve had regularly started coming to the VA, he’d nearly flipped his lid he was so furious over their reaction to Steve. He was a _person_ and he needed to be allowed the environment to heal in, and to cope with what all had happened to him, and goddamnit if Sam wasn’t going to provide that to his friend at every opportunity. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, releasing his anger so that he would be calmer when he approached the obviously still upset Steve.

Steve was sitting on the sofa when Sam cautiously made his way out of the bedroom in his pajamas-- just sitting there staring at his hands and looking extremely lost. He cleared his throat softly. “Steve?” he took a few steps forward, but Steve didn’t seem to notice. “Steve?” he asked again, moving into his eye-line.

Steve looked up, eyes red and raw but with a faraway look to them. “Hi.” He mumbled quietly, sounding uncertain.

“Hi,” Sam said back softly, using a voice he often used with his little nephews when they got upset. “How are you feeling?” he asked, bending a little so that he could stay in eyeline.

Steve fidgeted with his hands as Sam watched him, feeling tired and grumpy and more than a little small. “Tired,” he answered honestly, trying his hardest not to fall into headspace when somebody else was there. “I just wanna go to bed…” his voice quavered a little.

Sam thought he heard the hint of tears in Steve’s answer. Ah. He didn’t have clean sheets on the bed. He softened his face, not wanting to cause a stir, just wanting to help be as tactful as possible and get his friend back to bed. “It’s alright. Why don’t you show me where the sheets are, and I can help you?”

Steve had to bite his lip to keep from crying. How embarrassing. Sam had figured it out anyway, even when he’d tried to hide it! He just wanted to curl up in bed with a bunch of blankets and hide. He wanted his Daddy. He brought his hand up to his face and bit his knuckle to stifle a sob, watching as Sam moved away to look for clean sheets.

After a bit of rummaging, JARVIS piped up helpfully and directed Sam towards the right cabinet in Steve and Bucky’s bathroom. After murmuring a soft thanks to the AI, Sam moved back into the bedroom and stopped short.

He’d expected to have to clean and flip the mattress, or to wash a mattress cover as well as the sheets, but it looked like between Steve’s nightmares and Bucky’s nightmares they’d come to a compromise. The mattress bore a simple, easy to clean, plastic cover. He shrugged and set the clean pair of sheets down on a chair in the corner, then went back into the bathroom to grab some disinfectant spray and another towel. “That makes my job a little easier,” he murmured under his breath, spraying the cover down and wiping it clean. He tossed the dirty towel into the hamper in the bathroom and made a mental note to get Steve to wash the laundry the next day. Nothing like having a hamper full of forgotten clothes reeking of urine. He knew from experience the embarrassment it could incite. Neatly tucking the sheets under—military corners, obviously—Sam pulled the duvet back up and fluffed the pillows. He was determined to get the captain back into bed for a good night’s sleep. Well, what remained of the night anyway. He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face as he strode back into the living room, only to find said captain curled up in a ball on the sofa, still shirtless as he snored softly. Sam was pained to have to wake him, but there was no way in hell he could feasibly move Steve back to the bed without it. He bent down and shook his shoulder softly. “Hey, c’mon now, don’t you go falling asleep on me, Cap.”

As the groggy man sat up, the baggy sweats he wore slipped further down his narrow hips, exposing the waistband of the Goodnite he was wearing. Sam’s keen eyes didn’t miss it, and it immediately flooded his brain with questions. Steve, on the other hand, was far too sleepy and inching towards his headspace by the second. He didn’t notice as Sam slipped a hand under his elbow and guided him towards the bedroom. Sam was definitely going to ask about that later, when both of them had actual energy for conversations. Right now all he wanted was to get into the comfortable looking bed in the other room and sack out for a few hours.

“Lemme know if you need me. I’ll be right next door.” He murmured through a yawn as Steve crawled under the covers and flopped down heavily. He didn’t wait for an answer as he left the room, closing the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Steve hang out at the aquarium, then Steve meets with Hill. Later, they go back to the tower and Steve slips into headspace.

When Steve woke the next morning, he felt better rested than he had in a while. He stretched lazily and yawned.

 _Good morning, Steve._ JARVIS spoke up softly. _Whenever you are ready, Mr. Wilson is in the kitchen cooking breakfast. I believe he has the entire day planned out for you. The temperatures today will not reach above fifty, so I would suggest a jacket or a light top layer when you leave the tower for the day._

“Mm,” Steve mumbled sleepily. “Thanks, JARVIS. And uh, thanks for calling Sam. I guess I needed more help than I thought I did.” He fidgeted with an edge of the duvet uneasily. “I just want to have Bucky back.” He whispered, overwhelmed by the sudden change in his mindset. He’d been feeling rested and confident, adult, but once he’d begun to think about the fact that it would still be another few days till the others came home… he’d rapidly flip-flopped again and begun to feel small and withdrawn.

 _Might I suggest that you begin with a shower? I noticed that last night you did not clean yourself off properly, and if you don’t get to it soon, you might begin to form a rash._ The AI’s tone was gently chiding.

He’d learned a lot from Bucky and Phil’s interactions with Little Steve. He’d been cataloguing and observing most carefully to ensure that if he ever had cause to interact with Steve in headspace, he did it correctly. JARVIS took his secondary directive seriously. His utmost concern was for the safety of the tower’s residents; even if Tony’s protection was his _primary_ directive.

He had learned that Sir had begun to see the other Avengers as friends if not family members, and so had begun to offer his input and suggestions to other members of the team as well as for his creator. He cared for Steve. Ever since the Captain had learned about modern tech and been introduced to JARVIS by Sir, the Captain had been nothing but respectful in his addressing of the AI. He appreciated it immensely.

JARVIS continued to watch Steve, amused at the grumbling his suggestion elicited. _I have already begun to warm the water. There is nothing else you need do except undress and step beneath it._

Eventually Steve did get up, stumbling blearily to the shower and sliding out of his pants. That was when he realized he’d wet himself in his sleep. The Goodnite sagged uncomfortably between his legs, and he felt tears of embarrassment prick at his eyes as he shut the bathroom door. He took another step towards the shower and the underwear slid down his hips a bit more. Steve huffed against more tears and shimmied out of it, gripping by the edges and dropping it into the trashcan. The wet smack as it hit the bottom of the bag made his shoulders hunch, and a few tears did leak out of his eyes as he stepped under the shower-head.

Steve leaned against the wall beneath the shower, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Tony had installed one of those showers that had jets in the wall as well for massage purposes, but there was no door or curtain. Just a drain in the floor and a coating on the tile so that mold and mildew didn’t build up on the floors. Normally he loved it, because it meant that Bucky could also fit into the shower if Steve needed or wanted him there. But now it just felt exposing and raw. He hunched his shoulders and let the warm water run down his hair into his face, soothing him a little as he let himself give in and just cry for a while until JARVIS began giving him small directions to get him moving and washing himself.

Once he had satisfactorily cleaned himself, JARVIS shut the shower off and gently instructed Steve towards the closet to help him pick out clothes. As Steve was tugging the hoodie over his head, Sam knocked at the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Steve turned and sat down on the bed, oversized hoodie swallowing him a little as he tugged on his socks.

“Morning.” Sam began cautiously as he perched on the other side of the bed and watched Steve put on his socks. “How’d you sleep, when you finally did?”

Steve dangled his legs back over the end of the bed and shrugged softly. “Okay.”

“Good. I thought we might go for a walk later, or maybe somewhere more relaxing like the aquarium to blow off some steam. What time do you have to be at your meeting with Hill?”

Steve made a distasteful face. “Not until three. But I’d like to go somewhere if you’re game. I think I need to get out a little and distract myself instead of just sitting here and stewing.”

Sam hummed and patted his arm. “Good plan. I made pancakes and bacon. Come get something to eat before we take off.”

“Thanks,” Steve pushed to his feet and followed Sam into the kitchen. Sam had already laid plates for both of them, so he made his way over to the table and sat down. The two ate in companionable silence before Sam spoke up again.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” Steve shoveled in another bite of pancake.

“Last night…”

“Yeah?” Steve’s gut knotted. What about last night? Had he accidentally gone into headspace in an obvious way when Sam was there?

“Do you always keep a plastic cover on the mattress, or?”

Steve set his fork down, relief bubbling in the pit of his stomach. So Sam _hadn’t_ seen the… protection… he was wearing. “It’s about a fifty fifty shot there’ll be something in some form or fashion, so we compromised. No more blood or piss on the mattress, save a few bucks.” He sipped at his coffee.

“Fair enough.” Sam agreed easily, pushing his empty plate aside. “And uh, the… protection for you?” He knew it was awkward but he knew Steve would let him know if he overstepped boundaries. He was curious.

Steve spluttered a little, earlier dread returning. He set the mug down with a slow and deliberate movement, chewing at the inside of his cheek. “Uh. That’s… more conditional. I uh,” he began to toy with his fingers. He was nervous, but he trusted Sam. He _wanted_ to tell him even if it would be hard to.

“I… kind of… use um,” his cheeks were pink with embarrassment, and the fear that Sam would judge him harshly. “I use age regression as a type of coping mechanism.” He finally blurted with a cringe. “Bucky helps take care of me… it’s a pretty regular thing, and um… I’d appreciate it if you didn’t hate me for telling you. It’s not exactly something I share with people. Besides Bucky, Phil is the only other person I’ve told. Even then, it was because he was worried about me because before Bucky came to the tower I went off grid for about a week solid. I’d regressed so fully it took a few days to come back from it. JARVIS eventually overrode my orders and let Phil find me. It was dicey, but after that he stepped in from time to time to make sure I hadn’t killed myself. Then Bucky came back and..” he shrugged. “Things just… _clicked_ like they did before.”

“You mean before the war?” Sam asked, processing all the new information with no small amount of interest.

“Yeah.” Steve fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. “He’s always taken care of me.” The fond and even awe-struck tone to Steve’s voice, combined with some new vulnerability the conversation had seemed to bring out in him was… downright adorable.

Sam hummed softly. “Thank you for telling me. I know it must be hard for you to talk about. I can understand why you would be wary of letting someone know that, but you can trust me not to give your secret away.” He assured with an encouraging smile. “I’ve heard positive things about the use of this as a therapy tool. I’m glad you two have something that seems to help. Does your therapist know?”

Steve looked down at his hands and nodded softly. “She thinks it’s good.” He mumbled.

Sam took a moment to mentally catalog what he knew about age regression. “Were you in headspace at all last night, when you were upset?”

Steve chewed at his thumbnail, looking up from beneath his lashes to nod shyly across the table. “Was before you came over. Just… not happy being stuck here and… miss Bucky…” he bit his lip before mumbling, “I miss my Daddy.” His chin quivered dangerously.

“Is that why you called me, JARVIS?” Sam asked for clarification.

_Not entirely. I was concerned for the general welfare of Captain Rogers, though I did figure having someone else around would be good for him, especially if he were to drop into headspace too quickly and be unable to fend for himself._

“When you say fend for himself…” Sam trailed off.

_His headspace is usually around one year old or less._

Sam’s brows rose and he looked across at Steve once more. “So he needs some handling, when he’s like that, huh?”

Steve wiped at his eyes and straightened resolutely. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to fall into headspace. “I’m ready to get out, if you’re ready to head over to the aquarium,” he mumbled, pushing to his feet. He wanted to not talk about this anymore. He wanted to not be separated from Bucky anymore. He wanted to be distracted.

Sam knew he’d probably pried into Steve’s privacy enough for the moment, so he nodded. “Let’s get those dishes in the sink and then we can head out.”

* * *

 

The two actually had an enjoyable day together, until they headed back for Steve’s meeting with Hill. The cab ride was utterly silent, Steve’s shoulders stiff and all previous relaxation he’d gained at the aquarium forgotten. As the two neared the office tower where Hill’s office was located, Steve fidgeted, nerves on high alert.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice was terse.

“Anything, man. I’m an open book for you, you know that.” Sam wasn’t sure where this was going.

“Will you come over again tonight? I may need the company after this.”

“Of course. See you in an hour?” The car pulled up to the curb and Sam leaned over to open the door. “You’ll do fine. Go on.” He gave Steve’s shoulder a nudge. “I’ll pick us up something to eat and bring it back when I come get you.”

Steve stepped out onto the pavement of the sidewalk and shoved his hands in the hoodie’s pocket as he turned away from the car, hunching his shoulders against a few raindrops. He took the steps two at a time, quickly making his way to the elevator and mashing the call button with his thumb. He fidgeted a little as he ran a hand through his hair to dislidge the droplets of rain that had gathered there. As the little bell dinged to signal the arrival of the elevator, Steve wiped his wet palm on his jeans and nibbled at his lip nervously. Daddy wouldn’t want him to do that. Daddy would say it wasn’t good, that it was hurting him, that he should do good things like talk instead of biting his lip when he was nervous. The only problem was, Daddy wasn’t there to talk to.

He shuffled into the elevator and pulled his phone from his hoodie pocket, fingers hovering uncertainly over the screen. It was a good few moments before Steve realized he’d forgotten to press the button for the sixth floor. Reprimanding himself mentally, he pushed the button and then called up a message to Sam.

**I’m nervous.**

Sam’s near immediate response had him feeling better. At least he could count on Sam.

_Don’t be. It’s going to be fine. You know what you did was reckless and that you’d get punished for it, but you did it anyway. Besides, you saved ninety lives that otherwise would have died had you not stepped in and countermanded orders._

**I suppose.**

The elevator pinged softly again, and he shoved the device back into his pocket. There was little activity on the floor. The two conference rooms were occupied with briefing new agents on standard protocol for hostile situations, and the inner room of desks was filled with disgruntled and sleepy looking agents typing up field reports or mission briefs. Keyboards clacked softly, and an occasional cough or burble from the coffee machine in the corner broke the dreary atmosphere.

Down the short hallway, all office doors were closed save Coulson’s. He liked to leave his office door open when he was away, so that others would know he wasn’t likely to be in soon. When he was in the office, his door was usually closed to either have a few moments of peace or to block out junior agents looking to gawk at the famed agent.

Steve ignored the several pairs of eyes following him from the agents at desks and resolutely kept his gaze forward as he disappeared from their view into the little hall. He stopped just in front of the door marked ‘M. Hill: Assistant Director, Supervisor To New Recruits’, and formed a sweaty fist with his right hand. He took a steadying breath and knocked softly.

“Come in!”

The door squeaked slightly as he turned the knob, clearing his throat.

“Agent Hill.”

He greeted her as she swiveled around from the computer station to face the desk strewn with paperwork. She looked him up and down, and Steve had to fight the urge to squirm with every fiber of his being. Hill certainly had a gaze that could look right through a man.

“Captain Rogers,” She replied after a moment, nodding at him, her icy blue eyes impassive. “Shut the door and have a seat.”

Maria gestured to the folding chair crammed in one corner between a slightly wilted ficus and a filing cabinet. He dragged it awkwardly the foot or so over in front of her desk and sat down, the metal creaking beneath him as he shifted. Steve watched as Maria reached into a drawer of her desk and pulled out a rather hefty looking file, with several rubber bands around it to keep papers in. It landed with a thud on her desk.

“This is your file,” she intoned, jabbing at the swollen beige surface with her fingertip. “You might be wondering why it’s so large. Allow me to help you with that: you don’t follow orders.” Maria adjusted herself so her elbows rested against the desk, her hands splayed against the myriad of papers. She leaned forward with a commanding air that Steve admired. “Following orders is backbone of staying safe in the field, Cap. You can’t keep going off half-cocked to save every innocent civilian! You’re putting other lives in jeopardy, not just your own! Fury’s going to have my ass on a platter if Coulson and I can’t talk some sense into you!”

Steve bristled. “If I hadn’t countermanded those orders, ninety people would have _died_ , Hill!” Who the hell was _she_ to be giving a soldier advice about how to act in the field? He knew _damn_ well the consequences of countermanding orders, but his team was either well protected like Tony or super-human like himself and Natasha and Bucky.

“Ninety people is less than an entire village.” There was a quiet undercurrent of venom to her voice. “Rogers…” she shook her head and sighed heavily. “Listen, when I first came to SHIELD, I thought I could play the hero too. My sixth mission after Coulson and I went through the academy was absolute carnage. I got my partner so seriously wounded, he still can’t walk. Sure, it didn’t damage his intelligence any, but I took away his independence. I took away a good portion of his agency because I thought ‘just ten more, just twenty… if I can only get these few more people to the transport, they’ll call me a hero!’… and then the bomb went off. He’s one of the brightest minds in our R&D department now. Comes into work every day in one of those motorized wheelchairs, takes the elevator down to the basement. I can barely speak to him, even now.” She leveled her gaze on Steve. “How would you feel if that were Stark? Barton? If your actions traumatized Banner so badly he couldn’t return from being the Hulk?”

Steve took the discourse stoically, though her words hurt more than he’d ever let on. They’d gone straight to Little Steve’s core. He fidgeted a little with his hands, posture ramrod straight and feet flat to the floor as she spoke.

“All I’m saying is, tighten up.” Maria finished with a little sigh. “I hate to bench you, Cap. Don’t make me do it again.” She beseeched, and reached over behind her to the coffee maker in the corner. Pouring herself a mug, she took a deep sip and let out a groan. “God, these kids have me on alert at all hours, as if I’m not busy enough.” She muttered over the rim. “Alright, Rogers. Get outta here. I’ll write this up for Fury, tell him I’ve suitably chastised you and all that.” She waved a hand. “It’s a nice day out. Take adantage. Go jogging with Wilson or something. Don’t let me ruin your afternoon completely.”

Steve nodded softly, a little more subdued as he stood and placed the chair back into its place. Once he’d gotten himself back to the elevator, his shoulders sagged wearily as he leaned against the wall, temporarily letting his shell down while he had a bit of sanctuary. He let out a huge sigh.

 **Done.** He texted Sam, straightening back up as the elevator reached the lobby.

_Just outside in the cab. Got sandwiches and a few bags of chips._

**Headed your way.**

He tugged his hood up and dashed through the rain to the curb, wrenching the door open against the wind and dropping inside the back seat beside Sam.

“Hey,” he shut the door and tugged his hood back down.

“How’d it go?” The cab began to smoothly pull away from the curb, immersing them in the afternoon traffic.

Steve shrugged.

“She ream you out, or?”

“Just…said to stop being so reckless.” He mumbled, and sighed. “Um… I think I’m going to need to uh… spend some time in headspace when we get back. We should watch a movie or something after we eat, that’ll help. Then I need to get myself changed into some of my clothes so you don’t have to deal with that.”

Sam hummed thoughtfully. “What kind of movies do you like when you’re Little?” he asked curiously. “My nephew, he’s about three, he likes Disney movies or that show about the dogs.”

“Paw Patrol.” He responded softly. “It’s a good show. I like it. I like Disney movies, but I’m not supposed to watch Frozen anymore, and I can’t watch Bambi or Pinocchio. I don’t like Dumbo ‘cause they had to take him away from his mom and that’s mean.”

Sam laughed softly. “I bet you have a few things you can’t watch, huh?”

Steve nodded. “Bucky keeps a pretty close watch on things. There’s a lot that both he and I can’t watch.”

Interesting. Sam filed that way to ask JARVIS about later on. “What time do you go to sleep?”

“Um..” Steve blushed. “I don’t usually have to think about things like that…”

“S’alright,” Sam gave a good natured smile. “I can just ask JARVIS. That’s what he’s there for.” He tipped the cabbie and gathered up the bag of food. “C’mon. Let’s go get something in your stomach. We can talk more after we eat.”

* * *

 

Used napkins and chip packets littered the table when Steve finally came up for air, Sam ogling a bit at his first true exposure to a super-soldier appetite. “Damn,” he whispered, and Steve flashed a nervous grin.

“What can I say? Augmented metabolism means I burn calories like crazy.” He wiped a little mustard from his mouth and leaned back with a satisfied stretch. “Thanks for getting food.”

“No problem. I put it on Stark’s account.” Sam grinned, and Steve laughed. It was good to see him have a full meal and to laugh a little. Laughter did wonders for a soul. “Now. You ready to talk a little bit more? Still feeling like you need this?”

Steve’s demeanor instantly changed. He seemed to shrink a little before Sam’s eyes until he found it hard to believe it was the same guy he’d seen in action not three weeks prior.

“Need it.” He finally murmured, sounding a little shy.

“Okay. Why don’t you go and get changed and I’ll clean up in here and get your sheets out of the dryer. Do you need to take a shower?”

“Probably should.” He didn’t quite meet Sam’s gaze.

“Alright. You go and do that. Let me worry about this, then I’ll come put the sheets on your bed.” He gave a reassuring smile and waved Steve off.

 _I have run a bath for you, Steve._ JARVIS spoke up once Steve had picked out his clothes and shut the bathroom door. _Might I suggest you stick to the same routine Bucky prefers as much as possible? Bathe while you still can wash yourself, dress yourself, then you can watch something on television. Do not forget protection, and make sure you wash yourself thoroughly._

Steve felt nearly chastised by the AI as he sank underneath the lovely warm water with the aromatic oils. “Won’t forget.” He murmured petulantly, starting in on his hair before he slipped too far. Once he’d cleaned himself off and done his hair, he simply lounged for a while and let himself slip farther under. Steve levered himself out of the bath before he was too fuzzy-headed to dress himself once more, and dried himself off. He emerged a few minutes later to fresh sheets on the bed, and an unexpected surprise sitting atop his pillow. Steve took the pacifier dangling from his neckline and put it in his mouth, sucking nervously. He walked over to the bed and plucked the blue puppy from the pillow and hugged it to his chest as he padded into the living area where Sam was sitting on the sofa.

“Did you get all cleaned up?” Sam asked cautiously, unsure how to proceed.

Steve nodded and JARVIS broke in. _I ran him a bath and supervised him as he dressed._

“I see you found my surprise. I got him for you this afternoon. I know my nephew has a little monkey he carries around everywhere.” Sam couldn’t help but think Steve looked adorable, standing there in his bunny rabbit onesie, clutching that little stuffed animal like his life depended on it. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” he offered, and Steve immediately moved over to sit down beside him on the sofa.

_Available titles suitable for Steve’s headspace include a sizable list, Mr. Wilson. Might I suggest beginning with either The Aristocats or 101 Dalmatians? Those are two of Steve’s most favorite movies._

Sam hummed thoughtfully and looked over to Steve, who was still sucking on his pacifier, now rubbing one of the puppy’s soft ears to soothe his anxiety. “Why don’t we watch the one with the Dalmatians. I’m more of a dog guy than a cat guy.” He watched as JARVIS began to play the opening credits, keeping tabs on Steve out of the corner of his eyes. The more the movie played, the more engrossed Steve became, and the more relaxed he became. Sam watched as he slid fully into his headspace, surprised by the intensity of it. Steve really seemed to be, for all intents and purposes, a year old or so.

JARVIS paused the movie near the end, informing Sam that it was bedtime for a certain Captain. “You tired, bud?” He asked Steve, who gave the cutest damn nod Sam had ever seen, large blue eyes rimmed with redness from his lack of sleep the few nights before. “Alright. C’mon. Let’s go to bed, then.” Sam stood up and stretched, groaning as his back popped. “Let’s go.” He repeated softly, holding a hand out uncertainly. Steve took it, and Sam guided him to his own bedroom, pulling the covers over him once he’d gotten him to lie down on the mattress. “Sweet dreams. I’m gonna leave the bathroom light on so it isn’t dark in here. If you need me at all, my door is open.” He asserted, surprised by the fact that he actually felt a sort of parental affection bubbling up in his chest. It felt like when he babysat for his sister so she could go out with the girls. And to be honest, Sam didn’t mind it at all. Especially when the last picture he got of Steve before he went to bed himself was Steve adorably curled up around the stuffed puppy, pacifier bobbing softly between his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky comes home and is more than a little shocked at who he finds.

Steve was thoroughly contented when he woke the next day, curled up with his blanket and his new puppy dog, listening to the filtered sounds of Sam in the kitchen through his closed door. He spit out his paci and yawned widely.

 _Good morning, Steve._ JARVIS spoke up. _I am delighted to inform you that Bucky should be home by around lunchtime this afternoon._

Steve hummed happily, nuzzling at the soft fabric of his puppy.

_Do you need to change before breakfast?_

Steve shook his head and JARVIS flagged the information to share with Bucky later. Perhaps Steve was dehydrated. _Sam is awake and making breakfast, if you would like to join him._ He informed, and Steve sat up wearily.

After a moment of rubbing his eyes, Steve grabbed his puppy and made his way clumsily into the kitchen.

“Good Morning,” Sam spoke up, taking a sip of his coffee. “JARVIS told me you don’t much like to eat real food when you’re like this, so he taught me how to mix up a bottle for you. How ‘bout you and me go in there and you can show me that show with the puppies you like so much? You can have this while we watch.” Sam gestured to the warm bottle of protein powder and rich milk.

Steve hummed shyly from behind the puppy, hiding his face in the soft material.

Sam quirked a brow, draining the last bit of his coffee. “Ah, I see how it is,” he teased. “Now that I’ve done so much for you, you’re gonna play shy? Is that it?” he rose and approached Steve. “That won’t do, lil’ dude.” Sam grinned, all soft around the edges since his coffee had barely kicked in. “Show me your face, hmm?” he poked Steve in the ribs experimentally. Steve squeaked. Sam’s grin widened. “Oh, are you…” he poked Steve again. “…ticklish? Huh?” he laughed as Steve did, squirming and attempting to get away. Sam had him pinned between himself and the wall he’d leaned against, so Steve had nowhere to go.

Once he’d suitably gotten the shyness and the grumpies out of the baby (it was hard to justify this pliant and sweet thing to the commanding field presence Steve normally provided), Sam wrangled Steve under a blanket and onto the sofa, sitting down beside him. “JARVIS, queue up Paw Patrol, please,” he said politely, handing Steve his bottle.

Steve leaned against Sam’s solid form and sucked lazily at his bottle, eyes captivated by the antics of the talking pups on screen. Sam himself found the show to be better than he’d remembered, laughing right along with Steve as the episodes played themselves out. Midway through their fifth episode, the door opened, Liho streaking into the apartment in front of Bucky.

“Steve?” Bucky tossed his keys into the bowl on the table by the door, bag thrown carelessly aside as he hurried in, unsure what he might find. He followed Liho into the living room, and she curled up on the rug as he stopped short. “Sam?” Bucky’s expression grew more flummoxed by the minute as he took in Steve’s condition, the television program, and the fact that Sam didn’t at all seem to be fazed by any of it. “What the—“ he was about to curse, but just as well he didn’t finish, because Steve was reaching for him with little whines. He picked him up, further confused at his attachment to a little blue dog Bucky didn’t remember buying him. “What are you doing here?” he finally asked Sam, rubbing Steve’s back and swaying a little.

“JARVIS called me a couple days ago. Said Steve needed a little help.” Sam settled for, rising from his spot and stretching.

“He… he _told you_?” Bucky couldn’t grasp the fact that JARVIS would betray them like that.

“No. _Steve_ told me about _this,_ JARVIS told me Steve wasn’t sleeping well because of nightmares.”

“St-“ Bucky’s head felt like it would explode. _Steve_ willingly telling someone about his age regression? He knew he’d trusted Wilson, but still. This was a huge deal for Steve. “Steve told… you?” Bucky stuttered. Steve whined—he didn’t like that Daddy still hadn’t paid him proper attention yet! “Just a minute, honeybear.”

Sam felt like he’d been hit between the eyes. Just that little split second interaction, and Barnes was a changed man. He was so gentle and loving as he spoke to Steve and, well, Sam got it. “Yeah,” he said finally. “He did. But he wasn’t exactly in a position to stop it, I mean…” he shrugged. “Sleep deprivation and nightmares, he was in no position to fend this off for long. But I promise you, I won’t tell anyone about it.”

Bucky nodded, still working through things. “That’s… good. Thank you.” He murmured, as Steve whined again. Bucky’s instinct kicked into overdrive, and suddenly he longed for nothing more than to comfort his baby. “You can stay or you can go, but right now I’ve got to tend to him or he’ll start crying.”

Sam nodded. He hadn’t exactly expected Barnes to warm up to him quickly. They still weren’t getting along great, but things were better than they had been after the incident at the airport. “I’ll get moving. I got a meeting anyway.” He made quick work of his bags before he was out the door to the cab JARVIS had called him.

Bucky didn’t hear. He’d tuned everything else out the moment he’d heard Steve start whining again. He shut the bedroom door and sat down on the bed, hugging Steve to him tightly. “Hey, baby boy.” He murmured. “I missed you. Did you miss me?” Steve nodded against his chest. “Where did you get that little puppy?” Surely not… “Did Sam get it for you?” Another nod. “That’s very nice of him, honey. Did you say thank you?” Steve whined in frustration. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’. We should tell him thank you later on.” He rubbed at Steve’s back some more. “But for now you’re all mine. I missed you, and I’m going to be selfish with you for a while. Nobody else gets to spend time with you for the next day but me.” He kissed Steve’s hair. “I love you.”

Steve snuggled into him contentedly, holding on tight. He didn’t feel very verbal, but he was pretty sure that his amazing Dada could tell he loved him right back. All the way to the moon, just like that story Dada had read him the other night before bed. Steve had never heard the story before, but he loved it. It was the best story, ‘specially when Dada said Steve was his little bunny rabbit and that he loved him even more than the daddy in the story did. That was a lot of love! If Dada loved him more than the big bunny in the story, that was so much love! He felt a hand in his hair and suddenly he felt like he didn’t have any bones left in his body. Steve melted against Bucky’s chest and fought through the fog in his mind as Bucky began to murmur soft sweet things to him, telling him how much he loved him and how much he’d missed him, and how special Steve was to him. Steve sighed softly. All the stress and pain of the last few days disappeared in a wake of kisses to his face and neck.

Bucky laid his boy on his back and stared down at him with the goofiest of fond smiles. Steve beamed right back up at him. He kissed Steve’s nose again. “Dada loves you so much, sweet boy.” Bucky stroked a hand through soft hair and felt his cheeks hurt from the joy he carried in his face. “So, so much.”

Later that night, a text found its way to Sam’s phone from an unknown number. It was a picture of Steve sleeping curled up with that little puppy dog, the book _Guess How Much I Love You_ in the frame beside him as if the two had just finished reading it together. The text read simply ‘Thanks. Owe you one.’

‘No, you don’t.’ he texted back. ‘You have a gift here, Barnes. Don’t waste it.’


End file.
